


where you and i are together

by justK



Series: kunten nation [11]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Bottom Qian Kun, Canon Compliant, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, No Plot, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Betaed, Top Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, also, and, art allegory, back to the kuntent hell yeah, but it's like full of feels, but like it's not explicit, i guess we could place this on the, i guess you can say they make out, i wrote this during class so i was not paying attention and i could have many mistakes, only referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:01:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justK/pseuds/justK
Summary: pray that we find ourselves in a different situation,where there is nothing and no one who can stop us.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Series: kunten nation [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996807
Kudos: 18





	where you and i are together

**Author's Note:**

> not a native english speaker, i apologise for any mistake i could have.

when they were in their favourite classroom they hardly ever exchanged words. inside there was only the keyboard that Kun used to carry when they got together to spend some time, the video and sound equipment, and their belongings scattered around, everything creating a harmony that not just anyone could understand, because it did not really possess an artistic appearance, neither symmetry nor strategically directed light. what's more, the lighting was often the worst; there was also no good handling of the lines and the mass distribution used to vary, but the scene managed to express a certain rhythm and that was all they needed.

it was the sound of the piano keys, forming chords and combining the octaves well, sometimes accompanied by Kun's voice, his tone was not very sharp, but it was not low either, it was the intensity with which he sang that was high, and all that combined created a feeling of closeness, which could attract Ten and make him feel at home even when he was far away from it. Ten used to dance to his song during those times, producing a sqeaking sound when he forgot to take off his shoes, or a calming rubbing produced by the friction of his clothes against themselves or against the floor; the lines of his body conformed to the lines sung by Kun, representing the sound in a strange but well-fitting way, as if the music could be translated, not into words (although they were so in sync that it would probably be possible) but into movements.

the process of getting to connect in that way had not been natural, in the sense that it took a lot of work and effort, but it had been in the way that their interest in getting to know each other had been spontaneous. they weren't close before and Kun would have been almost inclined to think it was better when it was that way, but he couldn't put aside the way Ten made his way into his life and how Kun made a space in his in return. years before, they were only young people with common connections, sharing practice rooms that served as a path to achieving a similar dream: the dream of expressing themselves through art.

the journey, however, was more dream than the dream itself. it felt like floating on clouds of thought that were surprisingly not his own, Kun had noticed, throughout the beginning of his dream, that his train of thought was not his, but nobody's, and only passed through the minds of those under his wing, especially by the mind of the one who was his greatest support: Ten. 

it was an intriguing process — it is still an intriguing process, a never ending one. 

Ten was complicated, but Kun didn't complain about it at all, because he himself was the same. and between complicated thought and complicated thought, it was to be expected that the world around them, particularly them, was not only the same, but worse.

he liked —Kun liked— to stay awake late into the night, during those few occasions when the rest of his members went to sleep on time, that was when he and Ten sat face to face, in that small table they had in the kitchen, while Kun prepared the food they would eat the next day, Ten prepared a cup of tea for each one, the kind that his mother sent from Thailand every so often and it was the familiarity that they managed to establish what seemed hard to believe, because years ago they couldn't even communicate in the same language and now they shared two. 

Kun is of a more shy nature, or rather calm and reserved, because he did not possess any kind of panic before new relationships or public appearances, but his thoughts were his own and he hardly externalised them, until he met Ten, that is. Ten, for his part, was open, spontaneous, loud, and it was he who had laid his eye on Kun, and this was well known: where Ten put his eye, the bullet fell.

to say that he had felt violated would have been an understatement, Ten was bold and that was good, _too_ good.

“we have to get along if we want to make _this_ work,” _this_ , he said, referring to the group, or so Kun thought. “let me know you.”

what was he meant to answer to that? the logical, clearly.

“no,” he shook his head, that time he had been drinking water after a rehearsal, just on the day they were to return, for the first time, to what would be their dorm. Ten showed no offense or reaction. “you already know everything you need to know about me.”

Ten did not stick to that answer and continued. “it's fine.”

he didn't bother Kun with the same question again, but he demanded answers in different ways, whether it was following him, teasing him, sharing information about himself, until eventually Kun started sharing back.

it escalated fast, if you put it into perspective, because they hadn't just debuted, when they were already a family. 

“what do you feel,” Kun said once, “when you see where we are?”

that gave him a hesitation on the part of Ten, concentrating on raising a glass to the corresponding cabinet, he turned around when he succeeded and there he responded. i'm still not where i want to be.”

 _no one is_ , Kun thought, _because we don't know where that place is_.

“what do you feel you lack?”

Ten never answered that question. Kun remembers it vividly, the moment his groupmate turned and walked up to him, stopping right in front of him, that when Kun looked down he could see their feet perfectly aligned, with barely an inch of distance between the tips of their toes covered with socks; there, Ten reached out his arm, spread his hand, slim and soft, until it rested around Kun's neck, the tips of his index finger and thumb brushing the line of his jaw. Kun froze.

“i'll kiss you,” was what he had told him instead. his head tilted to the left, which for Kun came to be the right, and his feline-looking eyes traveled absolutely all over Kun, each and every one of his features, carefully and with too much attention, he felt tense, but Ten did not I let it go. Kun would have wanted Ten to let go of him back then, but now, how much would he give for Ten to hold on to him as much as that time. “not today,” he continued. “someday.”

 _someday_ , was a day that Kun always waited for but never came, because it was Kun who kissed Ten first, when the possibility of _wanting_ Ten hadn't even crossed his mind. it was Ten who wanted him and there was no way to let it go unnoticed, not with the way Ten stole his clothes to use them himself, or with the way he had learned to cook too basic things just because of Kun; nor could it be denied by the way he went to great lengths to bring visual life to the auditory life produced by Kun. now, Ten wasn't a possibility that Kun had contemplated, but it was a perfectly possible possibility (forgive the redundancy), up to a point.

it was the two of them always in their sacred room, the one that should have been for dance and that Kun somehow turned into a music studio sometimes or that Ten changed to a drawing studio, and that was where whatever was going on between them was planted and born. a connection, i would call it, invisible because it was something intangible, but visible because it manifested, one depended on the other, as much as Ten had come to depend on Kun and vice versa, because they had certain opposites, and each of these opposites tended over time, to transform into the other.

Kun moved his hands over the piano in a delightful way and Ten found it always mesmerising to watch him from his favourite spot on the floor before or after starting to dance.

“i want your hands on me.”

Kun slipped a wrong finger and hit a wrong key, ruining the track he had been playing. he turned his head towards Ten.

“what do you say?” he asked, bending his legs towards himself so he could stand up without using his hands. “could your talent be enough? could you do it as well as you do it with the piano?”

“what are you talking about?” was the only thing he could say in response. 

Ten had already stood up by the time Kun spoke and in less than two seconds he was already next to him, placing his hands on Kun's shoulders that were at the level of his abdomen when Kun had been sitting, he caressed the covered area through the fabric of the shirt he was wearing and slowly carried himself, behind Kun, until he reached his other side, then stooping to have his ear within reach. “i want you Kun, and you will be mine.”

 _being Ten's_ was an illusion, nice and brief. 

“i don't know how to play the piano,” he knew the basics. “but i'm sure i will know how to play you: as the best instrument ever created and worthy of being heard.”

of course it was flattering to have Ten speak to him like that, but it was just as scary, especially since Ten was a man of his word and he always delivered.

in that very room of theirs, Ten undressed Kun over and over again. the first time he had only put aside the elastic of his pants and underwear, encouraging Kun to touch himself until red was the only colour that could be seen on his skin, flushed in embarrassment, with heat, with desire, pumping his hand around his member under Ten's predatory gaze. that first time, Ten hadn't touched him because he was deciphering him, watching every movement, listening to every gasp, smelling the sweet scent, until he recorded everything in his memory, the same way he memorised a new piece, hugging the image and then interpreting it in his own way, because they were both artists, they worked with art and treated each other as art.

Kun was bold some other times as well. he took the initiative to start contact at times, driven by everything Ten made him feel he was still unaware of. he would corner Ten against the wall, kiss him first, languid and pleasant; spread his legs for him more than Ten did back, but they both gave and both received, learning new things, immersing themselves in each other, exchanging roles: where Kun normally created the melody, it was Ten who replaced him, playing with Kun's body and producing lovely songs; where Ten was the one who regularly invented the dances, now it was Kun moving, graceful and subtle. 

they shared so much, they had so much in common, but they were, at the same time, very different, and that was where the key lay. 

“Ten...”

“hmm?”

the calm with which Ten spoke to him at times, unaffected, made him angry. as Kun struggled to stay steady on his knees, feeling a burning but pleasant tension in the ligaments of his crotch, Ten simply sat, watching him as he buried two of his fingers deep inside Kun.

“what if people find out?”

“well,” he rambled, bending his fingers a little to make Kun arch, causing a brush between their dicks that almost made them reach heaven. “ _Kun_ ,” he scolded and continued. “i do not know what you mean.”

“us?” it wasn't a question, but that's what it sounded like.

Ten pulled out his fingers and blindly took his member between his hand and directed it at Kun's eager entrance, sinking it. “what are we?” he asked. “do you know?” Kun shook his head, unable to produce a word due to the physical sensations invading him. 

there were times (too many) where Kun never heard an answer. that had been one of them. 

_no_ , Kun didn't know what they were and they never named it, maybe because they were never really together. 

over time, Kun and Ten had learned to communicate without words, with music in their daily life; moans and gasps in their sex life; unspoken thoughts in their special bond; and, above all, Ten communicated with body language. Kun had learned to read everything, one of his favourite things with Ten.

on the day everything fell apart, Kun realised many things, but the main one was that Ten had prepared him, from the beginning, for that moment.

 _“isn't it beautiful?”_ Louis _.“listen to how he purrs!”_

_Ten had laughed at Kun's enthusiasm when they had just adopted their kitten. “i know, cats are special. just watch how he communicates with you,” he pointed to the tiny face of the animal, closing his eyes, as if blinking but for a little longer. “they make eyes at you when they say something to you.”_

Yukhei saw them first and although he never said anything, he was a source enough for the rest to find out and with them, the company. 

“you can't be together.”

“we are not,” Ten replied. Kun would have said the exact same thing if he had found his courage.

there was no lie in that answer, but that didn't stop Kun from immersing himself in the letters over and over again, trying to find a hidden meaning, a glimpse of falsehood, but there wasn't.

the dream in which they lived, that chimera, never came to an end. it was simply a reality, perhaps alternate, or a dream within a dream, where Kun and Ten were together, the way they had never been. it could be the world or it could be their destiny, but they weren't meant to be, and yet they couldn't be apart.

of pain, any of them could speak, but nothing compared to the limbo in which they were, they should not feel anything there, but that was where they lived and it felt vivid, heavy and painful, in their minds and in their bodies. not touching each other hurt the same as not being able to separate.

going to the practice room alone, for the last time, Ten said to him, “we knew, didn't we?”

Kun wanted to tell him _no_ , that no one had ever said anything to him and that everything happened without his consent, that he had never agreed to feel what it was like to have Ten close without being able to possess him. but this was all a vile lie, because Kun had refused to let Ten into his life at first, because he knew he shouldn't and still he did, consciously and willingly.

“pray that we find ourselves in a different situation, where there is nothing and no one that can separate us...”

 _i will pray, but for us to meet in a time and place, where you and i are together before praying so that we can not separate_ , Kun did not say it, but the train of thought was leaving him and very surely would reach Ten and Ten would know it then.

they could not be alone again from then on. they could be in the same room, sitting next to each other, together but apart.

Ten left _their_ room as he had entered his life, but this time he gave notice. he walked to the threshold, looked over his shoulder and closed his eyes in Kun's direction, in the same way that a cat and Kun understood:

 _we are_ , and that's enough.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in like 2 hours while i was in class, so this has no relevant plot but i adore my bbies and sometimes what i think about them or the way i see them is reflected here :)  
> -n


End file.
